A Matter of Perspective and Degree
by Lady Tragic
Summary: What if the Council had chosen another fate for the Exile? KotOR1 AU
1. Prelude

**Author's Note:** This is an AU piece totally unrelated to my other fic. I honestly have no idea how it will turn out. Basically, I was playing KotOR, and one of the loading screen blurbs mentioned that Jedi don't kill their prisoners, they imprison or exile them. And I was thinking about if your character from the second game had been sentence to the former instead. shrug

**Disclaimer:** C'mon, y'all are smarter than this.

They called her The Prisoner, but she recalled that her name had once been Julima. Those who guarded her did not know what she had done- it was the subject of the odd wager or solicitous inquiry. She was a Dark Jedi. No, her guards could sense, she was no Jedi at all. She was an ally of Revan. No, she'd been here for too long. She was... _strange. _Yes- like a bloodstain on the Force. Would they be able to sleep if they knew? Julima maintained that her crime was that she had done what was necessary, in spite of its cost.

She did not know how long she had been here, only that it had been a long time. She spent her hours in meditation- a hollow, useless affair, for no matter how long and focused her efforts, she heard nothing at all. As though she walked through an emtpy house that had once been filled with lively souls. Of late she had noted that she was no longer guarded all the time, only 'looked in on'. Perhaps she could escape- she had never really examined her cell. She found she did not much care what became of the outside world, and she cared less with each passing day in her cell beneath the Enclave.

"But you must care, Juli." chimed a voice from her memory, stirring up a peculiar mixture of hatred, love, and regret. "Apathy is death."

"Apathy is death." echoed The Prisoner. And then, as though summoned by her reminiscence, that same woman walked through the door.

"Hello, Ren." Julima said with a peculiar bitter smile. "Saved the galaxy yet?"


	2. An Unexpected Visitor

"Who are you?" replied the black-haired woman beyond the containment field. "What are you doing here? And-" She continued. "how do you know my name?"

Julima was blind to the Force, but even without it, she could tell something was amiss. She seemed somehow… diminished. Her imposing armor had been stripped away from her exterior, and to Revan's old friend, it seemed that something similar had been done to her soul.

"Don't you remember, my old friend? It can not have been so very long."

"I…" Ren seemed to struggle with something difficult. Then it passed, and she smiled that oh-so-familiar smile. It seemed somehow more innocent than the Prisoner recalled. "You must have mistaken me for someone else."

"Perhaps. I have been in here a long time."

"How long? And who are you?"

"My name is Julima, and I truly do not know. Since Malachor?"

"Four years, then." Ren looked troubled. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same."

Ren shrugged, as though it was of no importance. "I'm Renna Drake. I was a smuggler, now I'm a Jedi- a Padawan, anyway."

"Strange, to become a Jedi at your age."

"I guess the Council was desparate, with the war and all."

"War? The Mandalorians were defeated."

"Duh, but… Oh Force, you don't know. You've been in here."

"Indeed." Julima silently chided herself. One war had ended. She had been foolish to think there would not be others.

"Revan and Malak… they went off to the Rim, then came back and turned on the Republic. They're killing us."

"Revan and Malak?"

"Well, just Malak now. Revan is dead."

"Is she?" Julima sounded amused. Revan- she was certain it was her- gave her an odd look.

"Yeah. The Jedi sent some to kill her, and Malak took the opportunity to fire on her ship. Dunno which got her, but either way, she's a cool corpse."

Julima smiled inexplicably. "How did you find me?"

"I was exploring." She responded glibly. "Your turn."

"I am…" Julima paused. "I am a blade that has outlived its usefulness, and I am here because I did what was necessary."

"That was helpful." she drawled.

"More so than you think, little Jedi."

"I-"The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted.

"You should not be here, little Jedi."

"But-"

"Leave now. And Ren…" She paused on her way out the door. "Consider your questions, and add another. Who are you? What are you doing here? And… what do you want? Go, now. Shoo." The last was said with an inflection of familiarity, as though she spoke to a sister, or a friend.

Revan left, leaving Julima with considerably more to think about than emptiness and pain.


	3. Odd Thoughts

"Yo Bea." Bastila rolled her eyes at the sound of her unwelcome nickname. "Got a minute?"

"Of course."

"I wanted to ask about Revan" Bastila stiffened.

"You would do better to ask one of the Masters." She said evasively.

"No, I wouldn't, because _you_ were there when she was killed." She said with that intense expression. "What happened to Revan's body?"

"We returned it to the Enclave." Bastila replied tentatively.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Is there any way she _might_ not have been dead?" Ren interrogated. "Like, I've heard Jedi can do trances, make it look like they're dead."

"Since the body was cremated? No." Bastila improvised. "I doubt Revan had the necessary time or focus to enter such a trance, anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! What is the meaning of all this anyway?"

"Nothing, really. Just a few odd thoughts I had." And Renna waltzed out, leaving Bastila gaping and terrified. Did she know? Had she guessed? Had she remembered? Should she tell the Council? Or was Renna merely being curious now that they were to follow in her footsteps. Trace them, that is to say. None of them had any plans of repeating her fall from grace.

Renna flopped on her bunk, and instantly regretted it due to the thinness of the bedding. So much for her theory, if Bastila was telling the truth. And fully informed. Who _was_ the strange woman prisoner? She seemed so damn familiar, and somehow she was certain the woman- Julima, that was her name- was somehow connected to Revan.

_Ren and Mal and Juli, up to their ears in trouble, just like always._

Renna started. Where the hell had that come from? She rolled over, uneasy. First thing tomorrow, she'd trot down to the Enclave infirmary. She'd probably been more dented by those Mandos_ -never underestimate the Mandalorian, Juli- _than she'd thought, with these headaches_ –should have worn a helmet, like theirs-_ and odd thoughts.

No need to mention the latter though _–you never need to unsay a secret you never told, Mal- _unless they found something she thought as she drifted off. It was probably just a little bump on the head. Or exhaustion.

_Never assume anything, my friend. That's how you get killed._


End file.
